


Holding It

by Wolfscub



Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston Fandom
Genre: Anal Plug, Elements of Omarashi, Erotica, F/M, Masturbation, Mild D/s, NSFW, PWP, Skype Sex, dominant Tom, mild Dom!Tom, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3931126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfscub/pseuds/Wolfscub
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This piece has absolutely no socially redeeming value.</p><p>It's pure, adulterated (snort) PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NSFW
> 
> Mature Audiences only, please
> 
> I've been working on this for a while although I just finished it in a burst yesterday. But I've gotten to that point where it definitely needs more editing, but I just can't seem to bear to look at it for another second, so I'm just going to post it, warts and all.
> 
> I had considered not doing so, because this contains a kink I have yet to share - omarashi, which, for me, only entails the voluntary - or perhaps not so - use of a full bladder to enhance sexual feelings.
> 
> And yes, I know that this is not at all medically sound, so don't do it. Fictional characters rarely suffer from bladder infections, UTI's, etc.
> 
> It's the control - or lack thereof - that appeals to me, as always, and, of course, that I've found that this practice enhances the certain . . . tensions that are already present in that area - to a wonderful degree . . . 
> 
> Ahem.
> 
> Anyway. It also contains a long scene of the use of an anal toy, which is also - you should excuse the expression - right up my alley.
> 
> The last chapter's entirely too long, but I couldn't seem to find a natural place to break it, so I didn't. 
> 
> Mea culpa for the shitty editing.

"Where do you think you're going, little girl?"

It wasn't just his potent choice of words that resonated within her, but that low, almost ominous tone that vibrated through the mattress as she felt him move behind her, his hands cupping her hips, dragging her back, away from the edge of the bed and into his arms.

"You promised me a weekend," he whispered hungrily as he grazed his teeth against the warm, soft skin at the vulnerable back of her neck.

"I know, and I'm not leaving. But I have to pee, Tom. Let me go." Still aiming to get off the bed, Honey valiantly tried to move his arms from where they were wrapped tightly around her, but she already knew she was no match for him. 

"That's it - I love it when you fight me, and I know you love it when I subdue you and bend you to my will," he murmured softly, but taking on an unmistakably threatening note.

In a split second and while she was doing her best to squirm away, he used his superior strength to flip her onto her back. She found herself lying crosswise on the bed, his broad shoulders holding her open around him as he locked his hands together over her lower belly and around those widely spread legs, so that she had less than no hope of escape, as those knowing hands pressing down just a bit on a tummy that was slightly less flat than it usually was.

"I'm serious, Tom. You _have_ to let me go. I have _got_ to -"

"I think I remember someone telling me a few months ago that she came even harder than she usually did when she needed to go?"

Fuck him and his phenomenal memory, Honey thought, knowing she was well and truly caught, and that he was not going to let her go until she had given him his due.

And, in that, he might well get more than he bargained for.

Ever sensitive to her needs, Tom seemed to understand the urgency of the situation and before she knew it, two of those graceful, surprisingly nasty fingers of his were inside her, occupying her forcefully, pulsing hard - rather than stroking fully - into her as his mouth descended on her clit with an unrelenting ferocity that, at any other time, might have been too much for her.

But not now.

That combination of pressures in her lower body, of stimuli - good and supposedly not so - had her right there almost immediately, although as soon as he recognized just how far along she was - having studied her responses to every one of his carnal efforts over the course of their time together at least as thoroughly as he had Shakespeare - he backed off just slightly, wanting to draw it out for her, knowing, as he did so, the continuing urgency of her situation would only add fuel to his fire.

He began to tease more with his lips and tongue - rather than trying to overwhelm her - and the arm that remained locked down over her hips moved a bit, so that he could splay his free hand directly over that small swell of her lower tummy.

She already knew there would be no escape from him, so there was no longer a need to hold her down.

He pressed very lightly, very slowly and gently, loving the results it got him, the sounds of her helplessness were fuel to his body's own rising demands.

Of course, she did her best to try to avoid his touch, which he punished immediately with the same hand, reaching up to wrench a turgid nipple violently, pulling it away from her body as far as he could as he did so, making her try to twist away and squeal and beg him to stop.

He lifted his head just slightly while still retaining possession of the nub he was torturing as he did so, saying but two firm words to her around it as his eyes locked with hers over her own mound.

"Stay. Still."

Eyes flaring at his tone, his possession of her nipple more than painful enough, but her bottom still quite sore from having disobeyed him last night and not wanting him to go down that route again, she nodded, chanting an agonized "yes" until, after a long moment, he let go so that his hand could resume its previous position, palm and fingers massaging that very full, unusually vulnerable area with a gentleness that was in stark contrast to how they had just treated her poor nipple.

His mouth returned to its most pleasant task, but was much more languorous about it, lapping her up as if she was a particularly tasty delicacy, slowly, and with great attention to detail.

He let his hand knead her a but more forcefully than it had been, guaging her response carefully.

"Tom - oh - fuck - no -!" she breathed

His soft chuckle was far from benign. 

"Oh _yes_ , baby. I'm going to _make_ you cum."

"But Tom - I can't - I - have to go -!"

"Mmm," he sighed against her ultra-sensitive nub, ratcheting her desire even further with that simple act, "I know. It's kind of exciting, controlling you this way. It's new, and somehow wildly intimate, and I _like_ it."

"Oh, fuck."

His chuckle vibrated into and through her. "And if you want to be let up to go, then you'll have to obey me. Otherwise," he threatened, dragging his tongue over every bit of that swollen flesh, "I'll just keep you here until you do."

He could hear her becoming more and more desperate - for both types of release, he was sure - but they sounded much the same even to his discerning ear.

Since he didn't intend to embarrass her, he became more purposeful in his actions. His one hand was still - even more aggressively - massaging her as the fingers of the other - his stronger hand - began to fuck her mercilessly while he plied his mouth and tongue exclusively over the very peak of her excitement, adoring every bit of her violent reactions to what he was doing as she thrashed about, trying to escape him as she reached for him at the same time, panting, moaning, and finally, as he felt her entire body stiffen beneath him and she clamped down on his fingers fit to break them, she screamed.

And it was not a delicate, "oh my God I'm cumming" scream.

It was so loud and primal it gave him goose flesh, a true, real, completely unfettered reflection of just how mindless she had become with the ecstasy he had forcefully driven her to.

Still, he did not let up one bit, already quite skilled at reading her responses and knowing what she needed, listening to that frantic, full throated scream transform into something he'd never heard from her - or any other woman - before - a long, almost mournful note that she held through the next series of the tremendous throes he brought her to with no variation in pitch, just volume, still struggling against him a bit but he easily kept her helplessly subjected her to that anguished ecstasy, not allowing her to avoid the fullest extent of what he wanted her to experience.

She tried to scramble away from him the moment he eased his hold on her in the slightest, but Tom - at the mercy of his own now rampant desires from seeing her the wild abandon of her own pleasure, which always threw him straight to the center of his own - allowed no such respite, easily holding her lower body down with the imposing presence of his own, capturing her flailing arms as he leaned forward and straight into her, following the dictates of his own hunger and pumping furiously before he was even entirely seated within her.

Arms pinned to the mattress, body completely overwhelmed by his superior strength, she was trapped against him and fucked relentlessly - not that he was ungentlemanly enough, even in the midst of his own maelstrom, to forget one of the most basic tenets he believed about being her dominant - that his control of her pleasure was absolute, even in this.

His fingers found her, demanding she rise again at their bidding, which he was incredibly gratified to see that she did, even as she resisted him weakly, much less actively than before, becoming lost, as always, in the powerful feelings he created effortlessly within her.

"That's it, baby, cum for me. Sing for me again," he growled commandingly against her mouth, and seconds later, as he plunged violently into her, she caught him tightly within her, head thrashing, attaining that perfect, throaty pitch again almost immediately and maintaining it until he could no longer hold himself back and his - much lower, hoarser - cries provided an almost harmonious counterpoint to hers.

They were both wrecked in every imaginable way, but there was no basking in the afterglow for her.

"Get the fuck off me!" she began to chant as soon as he was finished, and he obliged, sliding to the side, rolling onto his back in utter, blissful exhaustion as she dashed for the loo.

But then she didn't come back.

He waited for her, his own desire unbelievably rising again as he recalled the beautiful sounds she had made and the sight of her in violent bliss, but she didn't return.

Concerned, Tom rose to stand outside the bathroom door, knocking almost silently. "Are you okay in there?"

No answer.

Brow furrowing, he knocked again more demandingly, and just as he was going to make another inquiry, he heard her watery, "Bloody hell, Thomas, go the fuck away!"

The idea of doing as she asked never entered his mind.

This was not something he'd ever done before with any woman - this holding game or whatever it was - and he worried that something was truly wrong, so he reached for the doorknob, thinking she probably hadn't taken the time to lock it.

And she hadn't.

Tom opened it and stood there in the doorway. "I asked if you were all right."

Tears streaming down her face, she mewled, "I'm fine. And I told you to go the fuck away!"

Of course, he did exactly the opposite of what she wanted, coming to squat in front of her while she buried her face in her hands and wept piteously.

Since this was hardly the setting in which he wanted to comfort her, he reached to lift her off the commode, but she stiffened. "I can walk."

"I know you can," he answered, ignoring her and doing as he pleased, knowing he sounded more impatient than he wanted to, but unable to control it around his concern for the stubborn wench that she was sometimes when she needn't be with him.

Even in this, her obvious emotional reaction to the sheer power of her orgasms, she always held herself away from him for some reason, as if she didn't want to get too close to him despite the unbelievably intimate things they did to each other when they were together. Hell, she'd refused, the first few times they were together, to allow him to bring her off, preferring, instead, to drop to her knees the moment they got into his apartment - sometimes barely before he'd closed the door - loosing him in a matter of a few breathtaking seconds directly into her mouth, deep-throating him from the beginning, but in a manner that was somehow different from how some women approached blow jobs.

She paid exquisite attention to what made him moan the loudest, what had him involuntarily bucking his hips forward. She concentrated on his cock, yes - and was fucking amazing at it - but she didn't forget the rest of him, either, taking him all the way down so that her nose was buried in his lower belly and reaching around to cup his butt cheeks at the same time, actually encouraging him to press himself even further down her throat.

Her hands were everywhere, cupping and rolling his balls with incredible skill and slipping her arms under his shirt to pluck at his nipples, then pushing his pants down and skating her fingernails down the insides of his thighs and up the outsides, sensitizing him everywhere she touched.

He exploded helplessly down her throat within a few minutes of them having made it through the door, and she was out it within no more than two or three after that, refusing his genuine offer to return the favor, in spades. 

There was very little that was better in this life, as far as he was concerned, than to feel a woman cum in his mouth.

But Honey had declined, firmly but politely - even his offer of just tea or a nightcap - kissed him almost perfunctorily and left him wanting much, much more than she had allowed him to have of her.

The second time that happened - almost exactly the same way - although he certainly enjoyed himself, he stood staring after her, chin tucked down, looking at the closed door she had just disappeared through and grinding his teeth, thoroughly disliking how one-sided things were becoming between them.

Granted, he was very busy and he didn't have time for them to see each other much. She never contacted him - he occasionally texted or emailed her just to make sure she was still alive, but she made no demands on him whatsoever, when his occasional other "friends with benefits" had sometimes gone entirely in the opposite direction.

They, of course, hadn't lasted very long in any capacity.

There was no exclusivity demanded or expected between them, yet he found himself - when he had a moment to think in his busy day - wondering who else she was sleeping with and whether she treated them the same way and feeling disturbingly jealous that they might be allowed to have more of her than she was giving him.

The next time he had some time off before he began filming his next project, in between galas and charity events and learning his lines, he called her.

She picked up, sounding happy to talk to him, but distracted. He suggested they get together that night - offered to take her to the best restaurant in London, wanting to wine and dine her a bit, but she begged off, saying she was busy but not offering any further explanation.

Not that she owed him one, but still . . . 

He suggested several alternate times within the next week, but she turned him down flat for all of them, with the same vague non-excuse.

Tom rang off, thoroughly frustrated. He ended up seeing a woman he really liked, who was much more open and available and obviously eager to be with him.

The sex was great, but he couldn't keep his mind from wandering to Honey.

And they hadn't even had sex yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> N/A

He headed to L.A., then Tennessee, Louisiana, and finally home again. He'd wanted to call her every day, but he hadn't. Through exertion of his sheer iron will, he only called her once in all that time.

She sounded genuinely happy to hear from him. Enthusiastic, even.

"Hey! What's the status, quo?"

He laughed, stretching himself out on the big king sized hotel bed. He was wearing comfortable old yoga pants and nothing else. "How are you?"

"Tired. Been working really hard. The last time we spoke, my sister was over and she came over again week or so ago. I adore her but I'm too much of a happy hermit to do all that entertaining! Putting up with another person on a daily basis - even one who loves me and I know excruciatingly well - is goddamn exhausting!"

He hadn't forgotten that she'd turned him down, and now at least he knew the reason why. "Am I interrupting you?" he asked politely, not really caring if he was. His cock was already at attention just at the sound of her voice, remembering, no doubt, just how amazing she'd made him feel.

"Oh God no. I am well and truly _fried_. I can't even watch the latest _Game of Thrones_ episode - I can't think enough to keep track of who's doing what to whom. My intellect has been reduced to 'Kill the Wabbit' level."

Smiling and nodding in agreement even though she couldn't see him, Tom returned, "Ah, I understand that. I'm about at that point myself."

"Yeah, sure, Cambridge," she scoffed. "Hey, you wanna Skype? I could sure do with looking at your beautiful face instead of Elmer Fudd in a Loki helmet . . . "

Delighted at her suggestion and how she phrased it, he chuckled. "See you shortly."

And then there she was, smiling at him, and he felt a catch in his chest that he didn't usually with anyone but his family and a few very close friends. But he pushed it aside. "You may be exhausted, but you look gorgeous."

That had her chuckling this time. "They got it wrong, Hiddleston. It's not Loki that has the silver tongue, it's you!"

Cheekily, he answered, "How would you know? You've never let me use it!"

Her snort of feigned indignation - around a big smile - had him laughing, too. "Well, perhaps I shall have to reconsider my position."

"Excellent. I can suggest some wonderful positions - you spread naked before me so I can devour you and make you scream comes to mind first -"

Eyes wide, she teased, "Are you going to make me scream your name, Tom?"

His voice low and gravelly, she could hear the bald truth in his words. "I don't much give a fuck what you scream - and you won't, either. I can promise you - I'm going to make you lose your mind, woman, whether with your clit on the end of my tongue or my cock rammed into your pussy." He consciously lowered his voice, making it sound much less posh in favor of a rougher, unmistakably cautionary tone. "Fair warning, princess, the next time I see you, you're _not_ going to get away from me as you have in the past. I'm going to even the score and you're going to be walking funny for at least a month afterwards."

"Wow," she blinked at him owlishly. "That got very dirty, very quickly, Tom. Bravo! I think I just came . . . "

His eyes narrowed and his leaned forward, towards the camera on his iPad, filling hers with his gorgeous face. "Didn't you once tell me that you're rather . . . vocal at the end?"

Her very real blush only aroused him more. "I am. You better provide your neighbors with noise cancelling headphones before you have me over."

"Done and done." He licked his lips nervously, then said what was on his mind. She could hang up on him if she wanted, but he kind of had a hunch she wouldn't. Although he thought he already knew the answer, he felt compelled to ask anyway. "You didn't actually come, did you?"

"No," she laughed. "I didn't."

"Do you want to?"

He saw her chest rise and heard her breath catch.

The question hung heavily in the air between them for a long moment, him panting already and trying not to and her biting her lip.

"How did you know what I was going to do tonight to get myself to sleep? Sometimes, when I get really involved in my work, I can't shut my mind off, you know? And . . . that's one way I get myself to let go and think about something else."

"I would be only too happy to help you do that, any time at all," he answered gravely.

"Okay."

He could hardly believe that she had agreed to his somewhat flippant - if hopeful - suggestion. 

"How - how do we do this? I've never had Skype sex - such as it is - before." She glanced down for a second, and before he could respond, she looked up again, directly into his eyes. "Do you want to tell me what to do?"

Fuck, yes, he did. He wanted to dom her, but he didn't know if she would be into that.

So he forced himself to relax a bit, asking softly, "Show me what you're wearing, Honey."

It was a lacy babydoll nightie that barely covered her butt and was essentially see thru.

He wasn't sure whether he wanted it on or off.

Fuck it.

"Take it off, please."

She did so, laughing softly. "Tom, you don't have to be so damned polite all the time. In fact -" She stopped mid-sentence, as if she'd reconsidered what she was going to say.

And, of course, he picked up on it, even mesmerized as he was by deep pink rose nipples that were already tightly peaked.

"In fact what?"

She shrugged. "Nothing."

He considered himself an even tempered guy. He rarely got angry. But this was one thing that some people did that drove him crazy. "Tell me, darlin', or -" he had a sudden inspiration. " - you're going to be in big trouble."

She startled visibly and he could see and hear her respiration quicken. 

BULLSEYE!

"No, Tom . . . " she whispered, and he could see her squirming under his gaze. "I don't think I want to get into trouble with you . . . "

His smile was just on the evil side of benevolent. "Then you'll have to tell me, won't you? Or the next time I see you you won't be screaming from my fingers bringing you to orgasm but my palm blistering your little bum."

More squirming and huffy indignance and he knew he was on the right track. "I - I was just going to say that you don't need to be polite with me. You can just tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it."

He thought he was closer to coming himself at that than she had been when she claimed she had.

Swallowing hard, he gave her a serious look. "I would enjoy that enormously, Honey. Would you?"

She didn’t say anything for a long moment, then slowly nodded her head.

"No. Say it. I want your words. I want you to tell me what you want me to do." 

He held his breath.

Her hands clenched by her sides, as if she worried they'd rove all over her body if she let them, Honey answered, "Please, Tom, would you be my dom for the night? I'll be good, I promise."

He wasn't about to question his good fortune. He was just going to go with it.

"Yes, you will, or you will come to regret it," he agreed, leaning back against his pillows and taking her with him. "Are you wearing panties? Show them to me."

She panned her tablet down so that he could see tiny panties that matched the nightie he'd just had her remove. "Off with them, too."

He had assumed that she might put him down and stand up to do it, but instead, she held him in one hand and scooted them down her body - very slowly and teasingly - with the other, deliberately giving him glimpses of that which he had not yet had as she drew first one leg then the other out of them, folding them and putting them neatly on the bed next to her, joining the nightgown.

"That was delicious, baby."

She blushed again, and he knew he wanted her to do more of that. "Thank you," she said quietly, seeming somewhat shy.

"Your hair's up?"

"Yes."

"Take it down. I don't want to see it up around me again. Understood?" Firm, but not harsh.

"Yes, Tom."

"I love your hair. Is that where you got your nickname from - the color?"

"It is."

He remembered the brief glimpses he'd been given a few minutes ago of other hair. "It is, isn't it. You don't wax?"

She shrugged. "What you see is what I have, which really isn't much, and I hate that whole process. No one's objected to it so far since it's little more than peach fuzz, really, so I haven't bothered."

"It's different, and I don't object now, of course, but I think I'll have to reserve judgment until I can see - and feel - for myself."

"Yes, Tom."

She was acquiescing quite easily to his demands, which, granted, had been mild to this point, but he wondered if she'd balk at something less so.

"Put me between your legs vertically and spread them widely around me so I can see your beautiful face and your beautiful quim at the same time."

He watched her scoot further down on the bed, holding him as she did so, arranging him so that his screen was filled with a view of those womanly folds and noting that her face was just about as pink as they were.

"Very good," he praised warmly.

"Thank you."

"Now hold yourself open - show yourself to me. All of you. You are not allowed to hide even the slightest bit of you from me."

She nodded.

"No, sweetness, I want you to answer me verbally every time. And I want you to say . . ." he paused for effect, already knowing exactly what he wanted to hear from those sensual lips of hers. "'Yes, Sir.'"

Her whimper was just further confirmation that he was hitting all of her buttons, not to mention as his own.

Tom waited, but a very short time, then chided, giving her a full on stern look and tone, "Honey."

She was smart enough not to pretend she didn't know what he wanted her to do, but she hesitated, only because they didn't know each other very well, and those two words had a lot of meaning for her. She didn't use them casually.

They had to be earned, and Tom hadn't really had that chance yet - although that fault was entirely her own.

Honey liked him - a lot - but was wary of him because of who he was, and had deliberately kept things between them on as superficial level as she could because of that.

But this - what was happening between them tonight and especially the area into which they were delving - wasn't superficial for her on any level, although she had a feeling it was for him, and that was just what she had been guarding against.

What she would have to continue to guard against, because she wasn't going to stop this. It was just too . . . titillating an idea to have him direct her while she brought herself off, even if he was just playing her dom as he played any other part.

He recognized that she was having a hard time with his order and was surprised that it was something that he would have thought wasn't that unusual a request.

But then she said it, without a tinge of reluctance that he could hear. "Yes, Sir."

He gave her a slightly irked look, his voice tinged with just the slightest bit of regret for her. "I'm afraid you took an unacceptable amount of time obeying me, my dear. Since I'm not there to deliver a correction immediately, as I would normally, it's going to be the first thing I do the next time we're alone together. And you are to _remind_ me of it the second we're through my door."

Tom watched her shiver. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."

He smiled gently. "No need to say sorry now. You're going to be made to feel sorry soon enough."

Those teeth worried that full lower lip again at his words.

"Now, what was I telling you to do, babygirl?"

He didn't think that he'd ever seen anyone quite as red as she was, and he could see that she was mortified at having to repeat what he'd said back to him. He found the idea that she could be that bashful quite enchanting.

He considered the idea that she simply might have been well into the role she was playing, in which case she was one of the best actresses he'd ever met. He didn’t know what her comfort level was with this type of scene, but he felt that the emotions he was seeing her display were very genuine.

"Y-you said that I was to hold my-myself open to you - that I wasn't . . . _allowed_ ," she practically whispered the powerful word, "to hide any p-part of me from you."

"Very good. So what should you be doing right now?"

Tom watched as her hands crept slowly, somewhat hesitantly, down her body until they reached the area he heartily wished he was there to explore himself, slipping her fingers between those puffy folds and using them to butterfly them back, away from her most tender, private bits.

"Lovely," he breathed, and she could see that he was absorbing and savoring every iota of what was being revealed to him. "Truly lovely."

"Stop!" Compliments had always made her uncomfortable, and considering the subject of this one, even more so.

Tom brought his eyes to hers, and she had no doubt whatsoever as to the veracity of what he said as he licked his lips unconsciously. "My mouth is watering for you, Honey. If was there, I wouldn't lift my head from you 'til dawn, and even then very reluctantly."

She let go of one side of herself to bring her hand to her face and hide behind it. "Tom - stop!"

"Where should your hand be? Did I give you permission to move it?" he questioned sharply and it immediately found its way back. "I'm sorry, but that's another infraction I'll deal with later. You, of course, will keep track of them for me, but don't make the mistake of thinking that I won't know the accurate count."

"I won't, Sir," she said, swallowing hard.

"Good. Now part your inner lips for me. Are you wet at all, I wonder?"

_At all_? She was like to flood the bed and the room and the whole blasted building!

When she did as he bid, she heard his shakily indrawn breath. "Damn, you most certainly are, aren't you? That is wonderful! Let me see you get your fingers nice and sticky with all of your honey, Honey."

She dipped just the tips of her fingers into her font, coating them immediately while he watched, his hand having long since found his own rampant cock.

A sudden thought hit him. "What _do_ you have for dildos, darling, since I'm not there to fill you myself, as much as I certainly do wish I was . . . "

Instead of answering him, her eyes lit up - a happy accident since she wanted to distract him from that line of questioning, but she certainly did want the visual she was asking him for. "Are you touching yourself? Can I see?"

"No, you may not," he answered firmly. "I suggest you answer my question before I -"

After a very short pause, "No . . . not really, Sir," she hurried out, her face even brighter than it had been.

That was an intriguing reaction to his question. "Not really? Explain yourself, little girl."

He didn't usually use such endearments with a woman he didn't know all that well, having been soundly upbraided by a few who took umbrage at the term, because they found it belittling. He had found, however, that many submissive women liked it, and she didn't seem to object.

"I - I don't have any dildos," Honey stated firmly, knowing in her heart of hearts that she shouldn't have tried to play semantics with him.

His eyes narrowed at her, and she knew she was going to be caught out. "Then what do you have?"

"T- Sir . . . I . . . "

"That's three separate punishments you've already earned. Do you really want to make it four?" he ground out.

She looked truly alarmed, as well she should. "N-no, Sir."

"Then what should I be looking at right now, Miss Honey?" he ground out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> N/A

She'd never seen him even pretend cross and hoped she never did again as she reached into her nightstand without looking away from him, bringing the item up so that he could see it but bowing her head so that her hair covered her face - and her nearly faint causing blush - as she did so.

Tom was glad that she obeyed him - finally - and elated to see what she had in her hand - a butt plug.

Granted, it was a small one - definitely one for a beginner, which was fine, and he thought it was cute that it was pink. He'd not seen a lot of her girlie side, but he certainly liked how it was presenting itself.

"Mmmmmm. Much better than a dildo, my dear, and you must obviously agree with me, since you own this instead."

"Can I put it back now?" Honey asked pointedly.

He chuckled softly. "Stop hiding behind your hair, and no, you may not." She pushed her hair back but avoided his eyes. "I take it that what you're holding up to me is something you're familiar with and have experience using?"

Honey started to nod, then remembered his rule. Her "Yes" was very soft and endearingly reluctant, said as she fidgeted nervously.

Tom was about to explode at her obvious embarrassment, but he managed to hold himself back - just barely.

"Is this the only one you have?" he asked boldly.

Those teeth were going to have her lower lip bleeding any minute, she was worrying it so hard. "It's the only one I can . . . accept."

Damn - she'd never looked at Tom and seen Loki staring back at her, but she did now, and it made her shiver visibly. 

"For now," he promised in a deep, slightly threatening tone, and Honey's mouth hung open in a startled "o" as she realized what that meant for her.

"Well, now, I want you to arrange yourself in whatever position you are usually in when you use that pretty pink plug of yours."

She had to at least stall him. She _had_ to. Things were going a bit fast for her, and she wasn't quite sure . . . "You want me to wh-what?" Honey asked faintly.

There was that stern expression again - not to mention _tone_ , which got to her even more so than the look - both of which she was becoming all too familiar with during this conversation. Yet the volume of his voice was as even as ever, which was somehow even worse. "I don't think I stuttered, Honey. _Do_ as you are _told_. Don't _make_ me tell you _twice_."

Without allowing herself any further thought, Honey found herself on her side, with her top leg drawn up, bottom leg extended. 

Tom mused aloud, "I wish I had two cameras available, beautiful. I would love to see your face as you do this to yourself, but I think - since I don't have that luxury - that I want to see the back end of things, so put me behind you."

Whimpering loudly the entire time in protest, she nonetheless obeyed him.

Suddenly inspired, Tom asked, "Do you have a good sized mirror?"

Inordinately thankful she could answer honestly in the negative, Honey said, "No, Sir. Just small, hand-held ones."

"Well, I can see an investment I'm going to have to make, sooner rather than later . . . "

Honey gulped hard at that pronouncement.

"This is how you usually are?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl," he praised, and she felt an inordinate rush of warmth at having pleased him. "Now then, I assume you have lube of some sort available?"

He saw her reach up onto her headboard to produce a tall, thin glass bottle that was often used by cooks to dispense olive oil.

Tom found himself grinning at the ingenuity of the container she had chosen. "Perfect. Now, I want you to do it exactly the way you usually do. In other words, I want you to insert your little friend there as if I'm _not_ watching you do it. " He heard her derisive snort, even though she was facing away from him. "Never mind the editorial comments. You have no idea how much I'm dying to see this."

How could he possibly expect her to do that - either part of it - the insertion _or_ the pretending he wasn't seeing it part?

"But - Tom - Sir - I . . . "

He could sense her obvious hesitancy, and might have relented and let her off the hook. But then his dominant side reasserted itself. "Do as I say, love," he said, imbuing his relatively innocuous words with a potent mixture of tenderness and command.

And he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding when it worked.

She held the end of the plug with the thumb of her right hand against her palm, reaching back, excruciatingly slowly, barely opening herself to apply a bit of lube to her intended target with her middle finger, which she then wiped off on a tissue.

Tom watched avidly as she moved to position the nose of the plug against herself.

"Nope - you're not going to get off - you'll excuse the expression - that easily, Honey. I want you to hold yourself open for me. I want to see that little pucker of yours before it's stretched."

He didn't see, but he could hear her drum her feet against the mattress in frustration at his edict, but then she complied, however slowly.

"Pull me closer. In fact, put me on a pillow behind you and put me on my side, too."

LANDSCAPE? He wanted to see her ass in LANDSCAPE?

"Want me to set it for a fucking panoramic view of my ginormous ass, too?" she asked sarcastically.

"Honey!" he scolded sharply. "I don't appreciate your tone, and you will not speak to me in that manner again. I hope you know that I would never imply anything of the sort. You have a beautiful bottom. I'm practically creaming all over my own hand just looking at it. I can't even let myself _think_ about what you're going to do or I most definitely will unman myself, because I'm going to spend the entire time wishing it was me rather than the plug between those gorgeous cheeks."

"Sorry, Sir."

"Now, proceed. Slowly."

Honey chuffed. "I don't have much choice but to go slow."

The tenor with which he asked the question revealed the strain which he was under in holding himself back. "You're that tight?"

"Yesssss."

Tom watched avidly as the barest tip of the thing was nestled against that tiny entrance. "How often do you do this to yourself, Honey?" It was a hoarse whisper at best.

Oh dear God, he was going to play twenty questions while she was -

"Not very."

She couldn't see him, but she would swear she could _hear_ his eyebrow go up.

"Are you lying to me?"

Honey met his eyes, indignant at his accusation. "I am not! Don't you think if I did I'd be stretched enough to use something bigger?"

"Perhaps," he conceded, literally licking his lips at the sight. 

Honey was stalled, though. Performance anxiety, embarrassment - she didn't know what it was, but she just couldn't seem to get herself to do what she knew he wanted her to, to give him the show he supposedly wanted to see.

Tom recognized her hesitance for what it was and began to guide her, keeping his tone and words resolute but soft, "Press it in, doll, gently but firmly, the way I would if I was there, until you think you can't take any more."

He almost came at the sound of her helpless whimpers as she obeyed him, and he watched her body accede to his command, opening slowly to accept more and more of the invader, although it was barely a third of the tapered length when she stopped. 

After a few long beats, he said, "Bring it back out, Honey - all the way - and then let the nose rest against your little bottom hole."

Panting from the potent mix of desire and embarrassment, Honey wanted to disobey him in the worst way, to put a halt to this entire scene, but her body wouldn't let her.

"Good girl. Now this time, you're going to take even more of it. Relax and take a deep breath for me."

He could see her chest rising and falling as she did as he asked.

"One more. As deep as you can."

Again, she obeyed with no hesitancy whatsoever.

"Excellent. Now, this time, I want you to take it - slow and steady - all the way to the widest part for me. When you get there, you may stop, but not retreat. You're to hold it there until I give you permission to move it. I might tell you to put it all the way in at that point -" He heard her worried squeal and ignored it, " - or I might allow you to back it out again. That depends on how well you do taking what you've been told to - how well you submit to that which I have chosen for you to endure." 

Another moan of protestation. 

"You may begin."

Honey did as she was asked, loving and hating - as she always did - the feeling of being opened there, forcibly stretched, although with him behind her - knowing what he was seeing, hearing his powerful voice and his carefully selected words - nearly had her orgasming already.

"That's it, baby. Right there." He could see how distended her body was - widened unnaturally and held at that point just before the plug narrowed to a neck that would help her - since she was so tight, pretty much force her - to keep it inside.

To _wear_ it.

She was panting heavily, moaning rhythmically with it.

And Tom had to wonder whether it was discomfort that was driving her reaction, or something else entirely.

"You've done very well, Honey. And because of that, I'm going to give you a choice about what you do next. You can either remove it entirely, knowing that the very next time it's going to end up all the way inside you anyway, or you can simply do that now - to seat it within you right now and get it over with.

"I'm feeling generous, so I'll allow you to make that decision yourself."

It was a horrible thing to make her decide! Either way she was going to end up with that thing inside her, having stretched herself around it to the point that, once her body closed again, she wouldn't be able to remove it without using her hand.

And somehow she doubted that he was going to let her do that any time soon once it found its home within her.

She didn't think she was going to live through any of it, regardless. She was already right _there_. Actually touching her clit would be superfluous now. The idea of doing this terribly intimate act in front of him - and even worse, at his wonderfully confident, resolute yet attentive guidance - had her wondering just how much longer she was going to be able to hold back.

When she thought she had decided to take the coward's way out and back it off, her hand seemed to have a mind of its own and she yelped slightly as she felt that unmistakable pressure and slight discomfort of being stretched almost beyond her capabilities, until she closed around the much thinner neck, feeling the familiar sensation of being held open for the continued, constant presence of a foreign body inside her.

Tom had nearly cum when he'd watched the final part of the cone-like implement disappearing within her, hearing her slight moan, then seeing her body swallow it- almost sucking it into her - and now seeing how the surprisingly large flange kept those wonderfully rounded cheeks of hers permanently parted around it, framing it and accenting its presence.

It took him a moment to recover his self control, and he chided himself inwardly for not seeing to her sooner. "You're all right?" he asked. "Bring me up to your face."

Son of a bitch. Honey didn't know if she could stand him looking at her up close now, considering the obscene performance he'd just seen and heard, but she did as she was told and brought him to the pillow beside her.

"Answer me, baby. You're okay?" he asked again, looking truly concerned.

"Yes, Sir," she whispered her answer, not meeting his eyes.

He looked a little dubious because she sounded a little dubious. "You're sure? You don't look very happy. Tell me what you're thinking right now."

She snorted, and the movement tightened muscles she would never have been aware of if she hadn't been wearing the plug. "I'm too . . . wound up to be happy, frankly. This is something that's very powerful to me, and I just . . . wasn't expecting to end up doing this with you and I'm not even sure I should have . . . I know it's stupid, but I keep worrying about what you must think of me - "

"I can show you that, Honey, if you'd like. I can show you undeniable proof of what I think about you."

He panned his own iPad down so that she could see his truly magnificent hard on as it jutted away from his slim hips, as well as the drop of fluid that dotted the very tip of it. "I want you. I would give anything I own - my house, my car - I would sacrifice my _career_ \- to be there with you right now, I want you so badly." 

Honey knew what his work meant to him, and was suitably impressed.

"I didn't really expect - not that I didn't hope - to end up doing this with you, either, and I hope you don't think that I've overstepped myself by . . . well, positing myself as your dom as I have -"

"No, Tom - Sir," she changed at the last minute, blushing yet again as he smiled at her correction of herself. "You're . . . well, you're annoyingly good at pretty much everything you do, and you have a natural feel for this, too. You seem to know when to be sterner and when to be softer. You've been pretty much perfect."

It was his turn to blush. "Thank you. I'm glad I've got the right demeanor down that you like."

"In spades, frankly. I can't tell you how many times I almost came already."

That beautiful smile returned, only even bigger. "I'm glad, but that would have been very naughty, since you didn't - and don't - have permission to do so."

He watched her stiffen and purse her lips in the manner that a lot of submissives, who almost subconsciously protested when their dom put his foot down about something.

"But I have to say that I am in much the same position. When you took that plug with that soft little whimper - damn!"

There it was again, and it very nearly had the same effect.

"So," he said, clearing his throat, "what do you usually do next?"

"I - I lie on my back and . . . uh, bring myself off."

His smile was devilish at best. "Well, then, put me back where I was originally, then, vertically between your legs, and show me. But remember that you must ask me if you may before you cum."

"Yes, Sir."

Honey arranged him again, and once she'd done it she used the side of her left hand and the edge of her right to hold herself open, doing her best to try to forget that he was there, but she could hear him breathing heavily, so much so that she was surprised she didn't feel the gusts of it over her privates as he did so.

After swirling the tips of her index and middle fingers into her own cream, she brought them north, her breath hissing loudly through her teeth as she dragged them over the crest of her clit.

"What swollen loveliness you have there. Sensitive?"

"Ah . . . mmmmm. Yesssss," Honey answered mindlessly, every bit of her concentrating on what was happening between her legs and the tantalizing feelings that the fact that he was watching her do this - that he had guided the plug into her that she could still feel within her - and that he was - ultimately - in control of her pleasure.

Of _her_.

All of that notched her excitement up into the stratosphere, and yet he expected her to keep herself reined in, which added yet another kind of spice to her situation.

"T-Tom?"

"Yes, Honey?" he panted.

"Are - are you touching yourself?"

"Fuck yes, baby. How could I not?"

"Can - " she began, then changed it to, "May I see? Please?"

"Yes, of course you can, darling," liking that she had asked his permission to.

The next moment, when she lifted her head a bit and looked down between her own legs, he was there. All of him, and she could see his big hand stroking that marble-hard, veined length, watching in fascination as he worked it through his fingers, cupping it and sliding his palm over it.

"Jesus, you're beautiful there, too." She hadn't meant to say that out loud, necessarily, but sometimes in the middle of sex stuff just came out of her mouth - as if she lost what little filter she had.

She heard his hoarse chuckle, then he moved the camera so that it was on his face again.

"Thank you. But that's enough of that. You've been such a good girl tonight, Honey, that you have my permission to cum whenever you want to."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, my girl." He liked the possessiveness of calling her that, and was glad when she didn't raise any objection.

As sometimes happened with her, though, when she got overexcited, she couldn't quite get herself there, and long moments went by with her no closer to her actual orgasm.

"Don't - don't wait for me," she breathed, almost in tears of frustration, practically ready to give up, already pretty much having stopped touching herself.

"Shhh-shhh-shhh. Don't you worry about me," he rumbled. "Listen to me. Put some lube on your fingers and draw them slowly over your clit - you like it side to side, right?"

"Y-yes," she answered as she followed his commands.

"Very good. Now, can you still feel the plug, babygirl? Is it still where it should be? You haven't been naughty and pushed it out?" He could see it, but he knew the question would add to her excitement.

Damn, his words - his tone of voice - Jesus, he was potent! She felt herself beginning to relax into her acute pleasure again. "Yes - no, I haven't!"

"Good girl. I'm glad you can still feel it. Now I want you to listen to my voice and let your body go. You're going to cum for me whenever you feel like it. Your body will do that because it recognizes its master more readily than you do. You tend to over think things. Your body will just react to the stimulus your fingers and my voice are providing."

Fuck him for being so absolutely right!

"I want you to hear me when I tell you that I don't think I've ever seen anything in my life any sexier than you are to me right now, lying there naked, your legs open wide, letting me see all of you, your fingers stroking themselves over your very swollen clit, and I can see the end of the plug you're wearing, too," He could hear her breathing becoming more and more ragged, and knew he was on the right track. "Your submissive side is going to be the death of me, you know, and I'm going to claim and revel in every bit of it. When I get home, I'm going to spank your bottom till you're hoarse - "

"No," she mewled softly.

"Oh, yes, babygirl. You're going to need a pillow on your chair for weeks afterwards, because I don't spank lightly. And then I'm going to -"

She hadn't been exaggerating when she'd said that she was loud when she came. 

She was downright _explosive_ , so much so that she knocked him completely over, so that he was, essentially, face down on the comforter.

But that was okay. He could still very clearly hear her cumming, and that was more than enough for him to get where he needed to be, although his own cries of satisfaction were still completely overwhelmed by hers.

Luckily, she realized what she'd done almost immediately once she'd made it through the initial mindlessness and put him to rights, back where he was.

He was barely recovered himself, but still had the presence of mind to ask, "Just one?"

She looked surprised. "Well, I - just . . . wanted to rescue you -"

"There are more orgasms to be had, though . . . aren't there?" 

Honey nodded her head.

He was practically rubbing his hands together in glee. "Excellent! I'm very greedy. I want everything you have to give me - especially your pleasure."

"But -"

"No buts," he said sternly. "I was a bit distracted by my own . . . needs. I want to see you cum - again, and again, and again, the way I would make you if I was there with you."

And she did.

When she begged off any more - much sooner than he thought she might - his instinct became to immediately soothe her rather than incite her. She was rolled up in a ball facing away from him, and he had fallen onto his side behind her.

"Honey? Honey, pick me up and put my on the pillow next to you."

Nothing.

Her shoulders were shaking and he worried that she was crying.

He tried again, more sternly, in order to get her attention.

Slowly, her right hand began to reach back for him, but there was no other movement besides that. Eventually, she put him essentially where his head would have been if he'd been in the bed with her.

"Sweetheart, are you all right? Are you hurt?"

Her face was buried in her arms. "I'm fine," came the watery answer. "I just . . . need a minute."

"Of course, baby. I only wish I was there to hold you."

She was inches away from saying, "Oh dear God, I'm so glad you're not," but managed to keep from doing that. He wouldn't understand how completely raw she felt after impossibly strong orgasms like he had just given her, and she didn't much feel like explaining it, either.

Forcibly collecting herself, she swiped her hands over her cheeks a few times, sniffling, then said in a terribly quiet voice, "Thank you."

Tom sighed, feeling pride mixed with worry swelling his heart. "You're welcome. Thank _you_ for sharing that with me, although I'm sorry to have made you cry."

Honey shrugged. "Don't be. It happens some times. It just means I came really, really hard."

"Good, I'm glad." He knew how important aftercare was - even if there wasn't a punishment involved - so, in his best soothing tone, he said, "Why don't we get you tucked in, hmmm?"

To her great embarrassment, he guided her through the removal of the plug just as he had its insertion. Then he'd told her to bring him with her while she found something in which to sleep as he mentioned endearingly that he would have done for her - and would do for her - when he was there. It ended up being a t-shirt and panties, which she climbed gratefully into, then he bade her get under the covers and put him back where he had been, across from her.

"There. All tucked up. Think you can sleep now?" he asked somewhat cheekily.

Honey snorted. "Fuck yes. You? Did you - I didn't even notice!" she colored prettily. "Sorry."

"Don’t apologize. You were right where you should be. And yes, at least as hard - if not as many times - as you." His breath hissed in through his teeth. "You are the very definition of what I find attractive in a woman, Honey-girl. And the next time we're together, I'm going to taste yours - your wonderful, feminine honey - while you writhe beneath my mouth and I squeeze the hot, sore, smacked bottom I've just given you."

"Stop that, or I'll never get to sleep."

He cleared his throat, blushing a bit, but grinning, too. "Sorry, not sorry. I'll give you a lot of warning about when I'm due home - and I want at least a weekend with you. No sudden - if lovely - blowjobs and then you running away from me."

She had the grace to look guilty.

"And I can already tell that one night isn't going to do it. I don't think a weekend will, either, but it's about what I can spare." He leaned close to his iPad. "Perhaps I'll just keep you chained to my bed . . . "

"Thomas!"

His tongue flicked out over his lips. "The more I think about that -"

Honey laughed. "No. You cannot."

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do with or to you, Miss Dripping Honey," he warned, although a smile lurked behind his stern facade. "A weekend, at least," he gave her a stern look, noticing she had yet to agree to his greedy demand.

Her eyes darted away from his and he thought she might actually turn him down. But then, with a reluctance he didn't understand, she said, "All right. A weekend."

"Damn straight. Next time, I'm not going to ask."

"Yes, Sir," she whispered, and his cock - which was already half erect already - unfurled to its fullest length.

But, as much as his body wanted him to, he didn't want to exhaust her. "To sleep, then, babygirl."

She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again.

"What?"

Frowning, she shook her head. "Nothing."

He didn't say anything. He didn't have to with the look he was giving her.

Fidgeting under that intensely unhappy gaze, Honey asked - every word pulled out of her slowly - "Could you - would you . . . uh . . . stay with me - like you are - until I fall asleep? I promise it won't be long -"

"Of course, my darling. Close your eyes. Would you like me to talk to you? I'd offer to sing to you, but that would set the dogs around you to howling . . . "

She giggled, as he intended she would.

"Yes, please. You are very dangerous with that voice, Thomas. You could get a girl to do anything . . ."

"There's only one girl I want to do anything, and right now, I want her to go to sleep."

She was so sleepy that didn't know what it was that he was reciting or whether he was reading it. She didn't hear much of it, anyway. Within seconds, the sound of his strong, wonderful voice playing in her head, she fell asleep, feeling somehow safer and more loved - even though they hadn't really even discussed either of those concepts - than she ever had before in her life.

Tom saw her drift off but continued to read from the magazine he'd had on his nightstand for a little while longer, then he settled himself down, not logging out of Skype, but leaving his tablet there, so he could fall asleep while watching her sleeping.

He didn't know what it was about her that intrigued him, but she did - mightily. Her reluctance both annoyed and piqued his curiosity, and he finally fell into Morpheus' arms vowing to himself that he'd discover what caused it and obliterate it as soon as he could.

Perhaps not in just the weekend he'd secured her promise of, but eventually.

He could be very patient, especially if he felt the goal was worth it.

And she most definitely was.


End file.
